CHAPTER 33
“It’s going to get worse before it gets better,” Turcotte said.
“What now?” Kelly asked.
“Our satellite link shows we’ve got company up ahead too. Looks like a bunch of interceptors waiting for us to hit their kill zone.”
“So what’s the get-better part?” Kelly asked.
“Well, it always gets better after it gets worse,” Turcotte said. “Either that or you’re dead.”
“Great philosophy,” she muttered.
A covey of F-16’s from the Abraham Lincoln waited over the Pacific, circling on the flight path the target was projected to follow. That is, until small glowing orbs suddenly appeared and all craft lost engine power.
General Gullick closed his eyes, hearing the panicked reports from the pilots as their engines flamed out. He took the headset off and looked at the pilot. “Where are we headed?”
“I’ve projected out the flight path of Bouncer Four,” the pilot reported. He nodded his head at the screen. A line went straight from their present location over a thousand miles west of Colombia, due south.
“Antarctica?” Gullick asked. “There’s nothing out here.”
“Uh, actually, sir, I checked. There is an island along this route. Easter Island.”
“Easter Island?” General Gullick repeated. “What the fuck is on Easter Island?” He didn’t wait for an answer. He immediately got on the radio with the admiral in charge of the Abraham Lincoln task force. That resulted in a five- minute argument, as the admiral’s priorities were somewhat different from Gullick’s. He wanted to recover the downed aircrews. A compromise was reached and the majority of the task force turned to the south and steamed at flank speed for Easter Island, while several destroyers stayed behind to pick up the crews.
Turcotte watched the dots of the waiting aircraft disappear off the screen. He felt the anxiety level in his gut kick up a notch higher despite this apparently positive development.
“Talk to me, Professor. Tell me more about Easter Island.”
“There are two major volcanoes on the island,” Nabinger said. “Rano Raraku in the southeast and Rano Kao. Both have lakes inside the crater. On the slopes of Raraku are the quarries where the stone statues were cut and fashioned out of solid rock. Quite a few statues have been found there in various stages of creation. The inhabitants shaped each statue lying on its back, then cut down on the spine until it was free. Then they hauled it to its site, where it was raised onto a platform.
“It is interesting to note,” he continued, “that the main road leading away from Raraku is lined with statues and there are some who think this was a processional route.”
“To worship the fire-heads?” Kelly asked.
“Maybe. There are some who think the statues were simply abandoned there when the people rose up against the priests who oversaw the making of the statues. Those people put a tremendous, almost unbelievable, amount of resources into the creation and moving of those statues. It had to severely strain the economy of the island, and the theory is that eventually the common people revolted.”
“So Raraku is the place to look?” Turcotte cut in.
“Maybe.” Nabinger shrugged. “But on the rim of the other significant volcano, Rano Kao, over a thousand feet high, is where the ancient people built the village of Orongo — their sacred village. The lake inside the crater is almost a mile in diameter. Offshore of Kao lies a small island called Moto Nui, where birds — terns — nest. In ancient times the cult of the Birdman occurred every year in September, when young men would go from the volcano rim, climb down the cliffs to the sea, swim to Moto Nui, recover a tern egg, and the first man back was birdman for the year.”
Turcotte rubbed his forehead. “Okay, okay. They have birdmen. They have volcanoes. They got big statues. They got strange writings on wood tablets. But what the hell are we looking for? Has anything strange been found there that might suggest this guardian?”
“No.”
“Then what are we—” Turcotte paused as the pilot called out.
“We’ve got company!”
They looked out as six foo fighters bracketed their craft.
“I don’t like this,” Scheuler muttered. The foo fighters were making no threatening movements, hanging in position as they flew south.
“How far out are we?” Turcotte asked.
“ETA at Easter Island in two minutes.”
The foo fighters were slowing and closing in around their craft, forming a box on all sides.
“I don’t think we’re going to have any choice about where to look on the island,” Kelly said. “I think the guardian has decided all of that for us.”
“We’re going down,” Captain Scheuler announced unnecessarily, since all inside Bouncer Four could see the island below growing closer. The bouncer was being slowed by whatever force had taken over the controls.
“We’re heading for Rano Kao’s crater,” Nabinger said, pointing at the moonlit surface of the lake in the center of the large volcano.
“This thing waterproof?” Turcotte asked Scheuler.
“I hope so,” was the optimistic reply.
“Everyone hold on to something,” Turcotte called out as they descended below the edge of the crater’s rim. They splashed into the lake without much of a jar and then were enclosed in total darkness. For half a minute there was silence, and it was impossible to tell which way they were moving. A point of light appeared ahead and slightly above them, growing closer.
The light grew brighter, filtered through water, then suddenly they broke out into air again, into a large cavern. The bouncer lifted up above the surface of the water, which filled one half of the floor, and settled down on dry rock on the other half.
“We’re shut down,” Scheuler announced as the skin of the disk grew opaque. He tried the controls. “It won’t power up.”
Four thousand feet above Easter Island, General Gullick watched helplessly as the bouncer disappeared into the waters of the crater.
“Can you set us down on the airfield on the island?” he asked the pilot. “Sir, that’s a public airstrip. If we land there, the secret about this aircraft will be out.”
Gullick’s laugh had a edge of mania to it. “Major, there’s a lot of things that aren’t going to be secret come daybreak if I don’t get on top of all of this, and I can’t do it up here. Land.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s see what we have,” Turcotte said, heading for the ladder leading to the top hatch. He climbed up and unfastened the seal, flipping the hatch open. He climbed out onto the upper deck of the bouncer and looked about as the others gathered around him.
“I’d say go that way.” He pointed toward a tunnel on the land end.
“After you,” Kelly said, with a sweep of her hand.
Turcotte led the way with Nabinger at his side, the others following, with Kelly bringing up the rear. The tunnel was lit by lines of light that seemed to be part of the ceiling.
The floor sloped up at first, raising faint hopes that it might go up to the surface, but then it leveled out and turned to the right.
They entered a cave, somewhat larger than the Cube.
Three walls were rock, but the far wall was metal. On it was a series of complex control panels with many levers and buttons. What caught everyone’s attention, though, was the large golden pyramid, twenty feet high, that sat in the center of the cave. Turcotte paused. It was similar to the one at Dulce, but larger. There was no glow above it, and Turcotte didn’t pick up any of the negative feelings he’d experienced in Dulce.